Heart of Grace
by Stuart Pidasso
Summary: This story follows Pandora Spiga of District Nine at the end of her games. This forgotten tribute will inevitably touch the lives of two people from the Capitol in unforeseen ways, affecting everyone's future. Three eDevice formats available free at www(.)stuartpidasso(.)com/Heart
1. Riddles

******Author's note: This is a much need revision of a story published late Summer 2012.**  


**Heart of Grace**

Reading from a computer tablet, a woman with salt and pepper hair sat at a meager metal desk as classical music played from small shelf speakers set upon empty bookshelves. Resting her eyes, she laid the tablet upon her charcoal grey trousers and lifted her coffee cup that had cooled on the worn desk. Reluctantly, the woman took a sip from the stale drink. She removed her smartphone from her blazer pocket and set it upon the bare desktop. Stretching her neck and sighing, her gaze drifted around the windowless room of bare off-white concrete walls.

Just as she returned to her reading, a knock sounded from the open door. Her eyes remained focus on the tablet. "Yes."

A younger man dressed in a well-fitted suit stood in the doorway. "Dr. Galen?"

Without lifting her head, she glanced up. "Yes."

"I'm Dr. Verus." He paused for a response that did not come. "I'm here for the fellowship interview."

Dr. Galen set down her tablet. "Dr. Verus, please come in and take a seat."

The young man approached the desk and shook her hand. He looked around the room as he sat down on the cold metal chair in front of the desk. "Not much in creature comforts."

"They only give me what I need." She took another sip of cold coffee. "This is as nice as it ever gets."

"Dr. Galen, thank you for granting me an interview. Did you receive my portfolio?"

"Yes." The female doctor clasped her hands together over her lap. "I hope it wasn't too difficult finding your way here?"

The man held back his laughter as he smiled. "It was certainly an interesting journey. Thankfully, the Peacekeepers guided me every step of the way. I have to admit that it was a longer trip than I had expected. Where are we?"

"They don't tell me. The exact location is kept a secret until I'm no longer needed."

"I see." The room fell silent, and Dr. Verus began to fidget. "It seems unusual to see candidates here, of all places."

Twisting her coffee cup in her hand, Dr. Galen stared at the oily sheen that had formed on the surface. "I always see my applicants here."

"Really? Why if I may ask?" His hands no longer fidgeting, he straightened in his chair.

Gnawing briefly the inside of her lip, Dr. Galen loosely clasped her coffee cup with both hands. "Because the Hunger Games are the perfect venue in which to find my next surgical fellow."

His face became perplexed. "I don't expect that there is much to do here for a renowned brain surgeon but to wait."

"True." Dr. Galen studied the young man's plain, but expensive, suit. "Why do you want to be my surgical fellow?"

The man grinned. "To learn from the best surgeon in the country. Sorry if my answer is overly blunt."

"I prefer blunt and to the point answers. Why did you choose neurosurgery?"

The young doctor shifted in his chair. "I became obsessed with repair of spinal trauma. The field of study sort of picked me after a friend of mine suffered a motorcycle accident."

The woman swirled her coffee cup. "What about the money and fame?"

"I won't lie and say I don't think about it, but I actually don't care. If I deserve it, it will come." Dr. Verus glanced down and removed a piece of lint from his slacks, dropping the white spec of cotton to the concrete floor. "I want to learn from you because of your skills, not because of your fame."

Judging his mannerisms, Dr. Galen continued to study the chief resident.

The man cleared his throat. "It must be an honor to be selected as the game's official coroner?"

"It's not an honor; I volunteered."

The resident furled his brow. "They say that you were chosen."

She sipped her coffee. "All the rumors are wrong. I volunteered."

"Oh, sorry for the misunderstanding." The male doctor clasped his hands tight together as the room fell silent. "If you select me for understudy, I prom—"

"Stop."

"Excuse me?"

"We can skip all the pleasantries."

Dr. Verus shifted in his chair and crossed his legs. "Okay. Do you have any questions about my record?"

"No. I wouldn't have invited you to the interview if I did."

"Have you filled the position?"

Setting her coffee down, Dr Galen leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk. "No. You are my last candidate."

"They say that you sometimes leave the slot vacant for the year if you don't find the perfect chief resident."

She grinned. "That rumor is true, but I'm not searching for the perfect chief resident."

"What are you looking for?"

When the smartphone on the desk chimed, Dr. Galen glanced at it and frowned. "A doctor. I'm looking for a doctor." She slid the phone into the front pocket of her blazer and stood. "Another one has died. She should arrive in a few minutes."

The resident jumped to his feet. "Do you want me to come back later?"

"No. I was hoping that we could continue this in the morgue." Dr. Galen stepped around to the front of the desk. "Would you care to assist me?"

"I'd be honored."

She gestured to the door. "Come, let's change our clothes."

Changed into surgical clothing, the two doctors passed through double doors into a large windowless room lit by several strips of simple ceiling lights. A stainless steel autopsy table filled the center of the makeshift morgue. Within arm's reach of the head of the table, a leaky faucet dripped into a stainless steel sink. In a corner, stood an assortment of medical equipment and a large plastic drum of formaldehyde.

The chief resident circled the room. "Basic necessities again I see."

The female doctor approached the table. "They use to refuse to supply me with this much until I started to use my influences in the Capitol."

Noticing a second set of double doors, Dr. Verus gestured towards them. "What's in there?"

Dr. Galen nodded for him to look.

He approached the doors and pushed forward. Stopping in his tracks beneath the doorframe, he counted seven pine coffins. "Oh, I see." He stepped back and turned around. "Is there cool storage?"

"No. I embalm them immediately and send them home. One of the rail cars usually has cool storage."

"I see. Who fell today?"

"Pandora Spiga from District Nine." Dr. Galen leaned back against the table. "Are you familiar with these kids?"

"A little. I did catch their television interviews this year. She's the girl with the long curly black hair that hung past her shoulders. She had the most charming smile."

"I didn't see the interviews, but that description matches her profile picture."

Circling the room, Dr. Verus began to inspect the medical equipment visually. "How did she die?"

"Don't know. I never watch any of it."

The male doctor turned to face his mentor. "Why do you volunteer to be the coroner?"

"Many years ago, I learned that they would ship the fallen without any preparation or cleaning in pine boxes back to their districts. What the families received in the midst of summer only worsened their grief. Disgusting me further, I discovered that they use to have the Head Peacekeepers sign the death certificates. All this was unacceptable to me, so I began volunteering. I actually had to pay for the formaldehyde myself the first couple of years. The equipment I borrowed from my hospital."

Dr. Verus crossed the room. "Did the Capitol object?"

"They did, but eventually they relented and began to provide the equipment after I hinted at making my fight public."

Opening the double doors a second time to inspect the coffins, he turned back to his colleague. "These coffins are as cheap as they get. Surely tributes deserve better."

Dr. Galen clenched her jaw as she shrugged. "Don't call them tributes."

"Excuse me?"

"They're not tributes. They are victims." Dr. Galen crossed her arms. "Even the winner of the games is a victim."

Stepping away from the double doors, Dr. Verus stared at his senior, confused. "Um..."

She cleared her throat. "In this room, they are victims. When you and I are out in public, they are tributes."

Hesitantly, the resident nodded. "Okay."

The woman crossed the room and opened a small cabinet that contained various medical supplies. "And yes they deserve better, but a box is a box. I did try to upgrade them to something of a sturdier construction for shipping."

"I take it that they prevented you?"

"Yes." Dr. Galen removed a pair of surgical gloves and tucked them into a scrubs pocket. "President Snow called me directly. He said that the fallen tributes can only have simple pine coffins, but I can have my equipment and use of cold storage on the train."

Dr. Verus joined his senior at the cabinet to collect gloves and eye protection. "Cheap coffins seem odd considering the extravagance shown before the games."

"It's all part of the message that the Capitol wants to send to the districts."

The two main doors flew open with a loud commotion, startling the doctors. Pushing a hospital stretcher, two Peacekeepers entered the morgue with a black body bag.

They rolled the stretcher to the side of the metal table and transfer over the bag. As quickly as they had arrived, the Peacekeepers exited with the stretcher without speaking a word.

Pulling on surgical gloves, both doctors approach the table, one on either side. They silently stare at the lifeless body bag.

The junior doctor noticed that his mentor stood still with eyes shut, briefly studying Dr. Galen as she remained motionless. Dr. Verus next looked down at the black bag to find it worn and scratched with signs of repair to the zipper handle, which had been replaced with a piece of wire attached to the mechanism. He looked up to see Dr. Galen's eyes still closed. The senior resident cleared his throat with a gentle cough. "Are you praying?"

Dr. Galen's eyes opened. "What do you think?"

His eyes drifted away without answering.

"Help me get her out of the bag." The female doctor reached over and pulled the zipper along the length of the bag revealing a soiled young woman dressed in the uniform assigned to her before entering the arena. She reached under the shoulders and lifted as Dr. Verus slid the bag free to the waist. Dr. Galen slid an arm under the torso, and the body bag was pulled free towards the toes and tossed into the corner of the room by the chief resident.

The doctors surveyed the slightly malnourished female body. A large bloodstain originated from the right chest below the ribs and stretched down the right trouser leg to the knee. A deep scratch stretched across her left face below the eye.

Dr. Verus briefly scanned the ceiling above the table. "Do you have a dictation device?"

"No. The Capitol only wants the death certificate."

"Do you make an autopsy report?"

Dr. Galen sighed. "I only create a brief report. I don't think the government cares." The doctor retrieved a computer tablet from a small desk and held the gadget close to the dead girl's arm. "The tracking device implanted into her arm at the start of the game positively identifies her as Pandora Spiga." After returning the computer tablet to the desk, the female physician took gentle hold of the girl's wrist and searched for a pulse. After a few seconds, the woman doctor removed a stethoscope from a front scrub pocket and placed the diaphragm over the body's heart. Dropping the stethoscope back into her pocket, the doctor stepped back from the table. "I pronounce Miss Pandora Spiga officially dead. I will use the Hunger Games logs to mark the official time since the tracking device will have the exact time of cardiac arrest."

When the senior resident noticed that his colleague remained immobile with her focus fixed on Pandora's face, he began to fidget. "Well…I'll start cutting free her clothes."

"How is a person measured?" Dr. Galen leaned forward onto the table. "This is my first question for you."

With a heavy brow, Dr. Verus clasped the edge of the table. "I assume that we're not speaking length."

Her face remained unchanged. "Were not."

The resident looked down at the body. "My first guess would be by her accomplishments, but I already know that to be incorrect." He looked up at Dr. Galen. "Does this question have one particular answer?"

"I have only one in mind, but there are many answers."

"But only one is the _correct _answer?"

Dr. Galen stared back free of emotion.

"Well..." Dr. Verus took a step towards the head of the table. "Here lies Pandora Spiga, a 16-year-old girl from District Nine, one of the _victims _of the 72nd Hunger Games."

The female doctor nodded once in agreement.

"She may be too young to be measured. I know so little about her, and her television interview was brief just like all the other interviews during the run up to the games. I don't even know if she has brothers or sisters."

The senior doctor glanced at Pandora's face. "She has an older sister named Madison."

The young doctor looked at his mentor with an inquisitive expression.

"The newspaper has bios for everyone. I've read all of them." Dr. Galen stepped away from the table and retrieved a rolling cart topped with a surgical tray from along the wall. She removed two crash scissors and handed one pair to the chief resident.

Dr. Verus observed Dr. Galen begin to cut free the jacket. He moved to the legs and began removing the boots by cutting the laces. "Do their bios list everything such as their favorite color?"

Glancing out of the corner of her eye, the woman doctor continued cutting. "Red. Her favorite color was red."

After removing the boots and socks, Dr. Verus began cutting up the trouser legs. "May I take my time answering your question?"

"You may."

After the doctors removed all the clothing and piled the soiled taters in the corner, Dr. Verus visually inspected the wound below the ribs. "Do you have to give an official cause of death?"

"No. The Capital automatically fills in the word _Tribute _as the cause of death. I do note the actual cause for my report."

The male doctor leaned in and pulled the skin apart just enough to measure the wound. "She was stabbed by a large blade. The blade must have severed a major artery judging from the blood loss."

"We need to tie off or repair the severed vessels for embalming. Do you mind doing it?"

Dr. Verus glance up taking in the request. He quickly straightened. "I can do it."

"Good. Everything you need is on this tray. As you do the repairs, I'll set her facial features." Dr. Galen stepped to the head of the table as the resident took his spot by the surgical tray.

Promptly, he diagnosed the damage. "It was the portal vein and the hepatic artery. The inferior vena cava suffered damage too. I'll repair them for the embalming."

"Okay." Dr. Galen did a visual inspection of the mouth before fixing it shut. She retrieved two eye caps and lifted open each eyelid. Becoming transfixed, the senior doctor stared into Pandora's lifeless eyes.

The chief resident observed the silence and peered up. He leaned forward and glanced at Pandora's exposed irises. "That's a lovely shade of green."

Dr. Galen looked away briefly. "Um…yes. Green such as hers is a rarity." The senior physician proceeded to place the eye caps under the lids and closed them, making sure Pandora's face looked at rest.

Dr. Verus continued with his repairs. "I suppose you don't have to do much about facial hair."

"The girls are too young, and I don't bother with the boys since I'm not a true mortician."

"What about the scratch on her left cheek? Do you ever try to hide or cover them?"

"No. Just clean them." The woman doctor began inspecting Pandora's ears to make sure they were clear of debris.

"Why not? You clearly show these kids immense respect."

Slowly, Dr. Galen straightened her stance. "You know why."

The chief resident stretched his back, deep in thought. He turned to his mentor. "Because covering the wounds is akin to lying. Doctors don't lie to the patients or to the families…or to the dead."

"Correct. I just clean them the best I can for their journey home."

Returning to his work, Dr. Verus peered up. "How do you handle the heavy workload at the beginning? How many were killed on the first day?"

Dr. Galen reached for a pair of pencil sized metal tubes from the rolling cart, setting them on the edge of the table. "This year, there were nine on the first day. I bring assistants to help me during the first week. I can manage alone from then on."

"Not to mention, occasional help from fellowship candidates." Focused on his work, the chief resident grinned.

"Most don't get as far as you have, Dr. Verus."

"I'm still working on your question of how to measure a person. I'm ruling out wealth." He glanced at his mentor for a clue, which she did not give.

Turning away, Dr Galen retrieved another rolling cart with a 12-liter embalming machine set atop and positioned the machine to the right of Pandora's head. The female physician retrieved a scalpel and made two small incisions on the side of the neck. When she was through, the two pencil-sized tubes protruded securely from the neck, one from the carotid artery and the other from the jugular vein. "Are your repairs complete?"

"I'm closing the skin."

"I'm hooking up the embalming tubes to the pump."

Dr. Verus trimmed his last stitch and stepped back from the table. He witnessed his senior stroking the hair of the young woman. "Um…I'm done, Dr Galen."

Without looking away from Pandora's face, the female doctor cleared her throat. "How are the dead raised? And with what body do they come?"

"What?" The resident began nervously tapping the metal table with a finger.

"That is your second question."

"I haven't answered your first." Dr. Verus circled around the table towards the surgical cart.

"Take your time. There is no rush, especially in this room."

The young doctor returned his surgical tools to the tray. "I've discussed this with many a patient. Do you have a particular answer in mind?"

"I do."

The chief resident approached the front of the table and stared down at Pandora. "It all depends on one's faith. People rise according to their beliefs. Is this the answer you are inquiring?"

"No, but don't give up." Dr Galen met her junior's stare. "I'll start the pump." The female physician moved to the front of the machine to confirm the connections and settings. She flipped a switch and the low humming sound of the pump activated.

The male doctor inspected the jugular drain. "Do you ever have to use multi-point injections?"

"No. Their youth makes the embalming process quite easy. Sometimes severed limbs have to be processed separately."

"Should I begin the cavity embalming?"

Stepping away towards the cabinet, Dr. Galen removed a blue towel. "No. I prefer to wait to see if anything unexpected happens during the start. Unseen trauma usually reveals itself right away." The woman doctor covered Pandora's torso with the blue modesty cloth.

Taking a seat on a folding chair, the chief resident crossed a leg over a knee. "Is that necessary?"

"I don't want the Peacekeepers to gawk if they return."

The resident nodded in agreement and began to stare at Pandora's face when something stood out. He approached the table and inspected the dead girl's chin. "There's an old two centimeter scar on her chin with dotted scars from three crude stitches. I wonder what happened."

Dr. Galen inspected the scar from the other side. "One year in September, she was helping the family harvest grain late into the night and barely got any sleep. Waiting in a line at school the next day, she fell asleep on her feet."

Eyeing his senior, Dr. Verus crossed his arms. "And how would you know that?"

"It was in her medical records." The doctor approached the small metal desk, retrieving the computer tablet. "She was nine."

Dr. Verus's brow furled. "Why do you have her records? These…_victims_ are not supposed to survive."

"One of them is. If there is a large battle at the end where the victor is wounded, they may need to know the medical history in order to save him or her. There could be a drug allergy or a genetic medical condition that would affect their treatment."

The resident leaned against the table. "Don't the paramedics just fly them to the Capitol for treatment?"

"They do." Dr. Galen unfolded a second chair and took a seat. "Once I needed to accompany a mortally wounded victor whose intestines had spilled out. After the young man was stabilized in the Capitol, I flew back to take care of the fallen. They credited me for saving his life. Having nearly lost their victor, the Capitol realized the importance of having a doctor on site and now gathers the health histories of all the kids. The poorer districts don't have much documentation except for what comes from the schools and small town clinics. But the Peacekeepers collect what they can and scan them into our medical system."

"And I suppose that you read all the histories before the games start?" The chief resident returned to his chair.

"I do." Dr. Galen glanced at her companion from the corner of her eye. "You must think that I'm too involved."

He smiled. "I don't assume why anyone does anything. I won't even pretend to know how you feel."

Dr. Galen returned his smile. "Very wise. How many times have you made that mistake with a patient?"

"Just the once, I believe. When you say 'I you know how you feel' to the wrong patient, you never make that mistake again." The chief resident eyed his colleague. "But I do see that you are deeply concerned."

The senior doctor leant forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "I admit that I'm consumed with these kids, wishing that I could stop it. I volunteer to make sure they get the respect that they deserve once they fall. And someday when it happens, I will be at the ready if they need me."

"Ready for what?"

"For the permanent end to the Hunger Games, for the needed change."

Dr. Verus bent forward. "The Hunger Games are written into the Treaty of Treason. I don't see anything changing."

Dr. Galen sighed. "Everything changes eventually." She bowed her head, resting her eyes.

The chief resident clasped his hands together and stared at the girl on the table. "Let's hope so."

Rubbing her neck, the female physician took a deep breath through her nose before standing from the chair. "Time we begin embalming the cavities. I will do the chest and stomach. You do the colon."

The resident nodded. "Okay."

The doctors removed aspirators and trocar needles from below the rolling cart and began their work by piercing the appropriate locations of Pandora's abdomen. When they completed their initial tasks, the doctors took hypodermic needles to finish embalming the hard to reach places on the surfaces of the skin, which were few for the young Pandora.

Next, with a basin of water, they washed the weeks of dirt from Pandora's hair. They rinsed it a second time with clean water and dried the strands with towels.

Dr. Galen next removed a heavy liter-sized round plastic container from below the cart and set it on the table next to Pandora's body. She opened it to reveal a white cream.

The chief resident examined contents of the container. "Skin cream?"

"A special kind. I developed it especially for embalming. It helps preserve the skin past the funeral viewing. Apply it liberally."

The doctors took large handfuls of cream and spread it onto sections of Pandora's body, rubbing the skin in a firm matter that aided the final moments of the arterial embalming. As they turned Pandora alternately onto her sides, they bent the joints to counteract the rigor mortis, thoroughly applying the embalming skin cream to the entire surface of the body. As Dr. Galen finished rubbing cream into Pandora's face, Dr. Verus made sure the cream reached in between the fingers and toes.

A three-centimeter scar on Pandora's left heel grabbed the chief resident's attention. "Do her records mention this scar?"

A faint smile appeared on the senior doctor's face. "Pandora was playing with friends at a swimming hole and cut her foot on a piece of glass. The school nurse repaired it."

"Why didn't she go to a doctor?"

"The school nurse is the town doctor. There are no medically trained physicians in her community."

Dr. Verus paused rubbing in the cream. "Is the access to doctors this bad in all the districts?"

"It is."

"Perhaps we should be sending med students and residents to the districts for stints during their training."

The woman shrugged. "That would never happen."

"Why not?"

Dr. Galen raised her head. "The last thing the Capitol would want is to have their best and brightest to become fully aware of the blight of the districts. The Capitol doesn't want the citizens to know."

"There must be thousands of Peacekeepers who know."

Dr. Galen moved around the table. "And they return to their own deprived district, trained to keep silent."

His brow now furled, Dr. Verus gently flexed Pandora's legs. "It's not how are the dead raised; it's how will the living rise up?"

The physician eyed him, remaining silent.

Moving to the other side of the table, the chief resident flexed the rigor mortis out of the other leg as he rubbed in the embalming cream. "What else did her records say?"

Dr. Galen bit her lip before speaking. "The school nurse wrote gravida in her record."

The resident paused as he glanced at the young woman on the table. "She must not have delivered."

"I agree, but I don't know what happened. Most of what happens to the people in the districts is never documented. Except for the mandatory vaccines and the stitches, her records don't say much." Dr. Galen gently flexed one of Pandora's arms. "Most of what I have learned comes from the newspaper. Sometimes there is the odd fact in the gambling section."

Shifting the modesty cloth, the young doctor began applying the lotion to the torso side closest to him. "I never bet in the games. I just...became numb to them."

"I gather information from wherever I can." Dr. Galen began squeezing Pandora's upper arm, remembering a factoid. "The paper said that she could throw a fastball."

Dr. Verus smiled. "That's right. In her television interview, she mentioned that she loved baseball and that she would throw balls high up onto the roof of the barn. They would roll off randomly, which allowed her to practice catching pop ups. I remember that now...and her hair."

Removing the modesty cloth completely, the female doctor joined the resident at applying cream to the torso. "We should turn her on to her sides again before finishing the front."

"Okay."

With the skin on Pandora's back treated, Dr. Galen finished the front torso.

Dr. Verus whispered to himself. "How is a person measured?"

The senior physician restrained her grin.

Dr. Verus noticed her moment of levity. "Dr. Galen, did you have a special swimming hole as a kid?"

"No. I was busy collecting caryophyllaceae."

The resident dug into his memory. "The wild flower?"

"Yes. I use to study the wildflowers in the nearby mountains, carnations being my favorite."

"Is that what led you to medicine?"

"No." Finished with applying cream, Dr. Galen focused on Pandora's face. "Once I started seeing past the veil of innocence, I wanted to understand man's cruelty."

The chief resident returned the modesty cloth to Pandora's body. "Did you study psychology?"

"No. I saw that as trying to put reason to chaos. I wanted to study the brain in search of the link."

"What link?"

The senior doctor looked into her colleague's eyes. "The link to our being. It's there somewhere; otherwise, we're just biological computers bumping into each other." She closed the container of cream. "So, did you have a special swimming hole?"

Dr. Verus smiled.

Stowing the container of cream below the cart, she shook her head. "I withdraw my question. I don't want to know."


	2. Solutions

With arterial embalming completed, Dr. Galen began dismantling the machine. Dr. Verus removed the vascular tubes and began closing the small incisions in Pandora's neck. As the last stitch was trimmed, the female physician retrieved a set of light blue cotton patient pajamas from the cabinet, setting them at Pandora's feet.

"We'll wipe her down one more time, making sure we didn't miss anything before we dress her." Dr. Galen passed a white hand towel to her colleague.

Rubbing the pajama cloth between his fingers, Dr. Verus sneered. "The fabric is cheap."

"I actually have to pay for them myself since the Capitol deems their dirty arena clothes sufficient. They are standard hospital issue." Dr. Galen began final inspection, rubbing the skin with the hand towel. "Besides, the families have their own preferred clothing back in the districts."

Dr. Verus began assisting with the final inspection. "We spoil them until the games start, and from that point on, nothing. It doesn't seem right."

Rubbing the skin between Pandora's fingers, the female physician eyed her junior. "The Capitol spoils the sacrificed. Once they're dead, which they are as soon as they enter the arena, the Capitol has no more use of them."

Falling silent, Dr. Verus clenched his jaw as he progressed with the final wipe down.

**...**

Dressed in her pajama top and bottom, Pandora lay on the table as if asleep.

"Dr. Verus, are you ready for your final question?"

The chief resident glared at his mentor.

"You have plenty of time to answer the other two."

"Okay."

Dr. Galen flattened a turned up collar on Pandora's pajama top and began to stare at the dead girl's face. "What does everyone possess, rich or poor, that grows in value as we age?"

Twisting his mouth, the resident hesitantly spoke. "Something tells me that it's not the obvious answer of time."

Shrugging, Dr. Galen stepped away. "No rush. Come help me with a coffin."

"Wait." Dr. Verus studied the young woman on the table. "We're missing something."

The senior doctor joined the resident at his side. "What?"

The young doctor stared at Pandora for seconds before speaking. "The hair."

"We washed it during the embalming."

"No." Dr. Verus approached Pandora's hair, rubbing some of her long black strands between his fingers. "It's not right. It's not how I remember seeing it during her television interview. Her hair was so vibrant on the television."

Moving to the top of the table, Dr. Galen inspected the hair. "She was alive then."

"No it's not that. She valued her hair, and with what limited resources she possessed, she made it stand out.

"The prep teams make the hair stand out."

"No. It was full of body and curls before she came to the Capitol. It stood out on reaping day before she met the prep team. Can we bring them in to treat her hair?"

"No. They are back in the Capitol. The Gamemakers would never allow it."

Dr. Verus rubbed the strands between his fingers. "Let's wash it again."

The senior doctor stroked Pandora's hair. "There are some higher quality hair products in the women's locker room. I'll scrounge some up."

"Dr. Galen, is fixing her hair a lie?"

She patted the chief resident's back. "No. We're just thoroughly washing it. You wrap her face and neck in towels so that we don't get her skin wet."

The resident nodded. "I'll prepare the hot water."

Dr. Galen returned with a couple bottles of hair product, a curling iron, and hair dryer. Using the computer tablet, Dr. Verus found images of Pandora to use as a style guide. With great care, the two doctors washed the tributes hair. They rinsed the strands with warm water and gently squeezed out the water from the flattened curls with towels.

Under direct light, Dr. Verus inspected the rewashed hair. "The shine is back. At least we can give back this part of her to her family." The hair fell from his fingers as he fell silent.

Taking notice of the resident's silence, Dr. Galen paused. "Is there something wrong?"

"How are the dead raised? And with what body do they come?" The chief resident turned away from the table, facing his senior. "I thought that I had an answer for you, but it slipped away."

Dr. Galen picked up the end to an extension cord and plugged in the hair dryer. "It will come."

Returning to Pandora's hair, Dr. Verus pulled some of the strands straight to see it stretch well past her shoulders. "As for your first question, or should I say riddle, of how a person is measured, I could measure the actual length of this hair, but what would it tell me? Nothing."

Dr. Galen briefly met her junior's gaze and smiled. She turned on the dryer and began blowing Pandora's hair.

They proceeded to finish the drying with towel and machine until the body and lift had returned to Pandora's hair. As Dr. Verus combed the hair into uniform strands, Dr. Galen applied the curling iron. Together, the two medical professionals progressed until they had found the desired effect.

Stepping back, Dr. Verus smiled. "That's closer to what I remember of Pandora."

"She must have loved her hair." Dr. Galen unplugged the iron. "It would have needed a lot of maintenance."

The chief resident's face became solemn. "Huh?"

"What?"

"We're still missing something?"

"I'm fairly certain that the embalming is complete. I've done enough of them."

Dr. Verus shook his head. "Not that. My gut tells me that we are missing something significant."

Circling the table, Dr. Galen visually inspected Pandora. "Like what?"

"I don't know." The male physician bit his lip.

"Take a break and go for a walk. Maybe it will come to you. We'll finish when you get back."

The chief resident snapped his fingers. "It's in her interview. You didn't catch hers?"

Dr. Galen subtly shook her head. "I only read their histories and bios. Watching the videos would make all this unbearable."

"Would you mind if we pull hers up on the computer?"

The senior doctor hesitated. "Go ahead if your instincts say that it's important."

"It is. I just know it." Dr. Verus took the tablet computer and found Pandora's interview with Caesar Flickerman. "Here, I found it."

On the video, Caesar and Pandora sit upon a stage before a large audience. Caesar appears relaxed as normal. With head upright and shoulders straight, Pandora wears a flowing red dress with her long curly black hair draping over her bare shoulders.

A jovial Caesar pats his knee. "The barn has to be a couple stories high. Pandora, they say you have quite the throwing arm."

"I do. My father taught me how to throw a fastball."

"Do you throw overhand?"

From the excitement of being center stage before the entire country, Pandora skirts nervously forward on her chair. "Is there any other way?"

"What about softball?"

"I've always preferred baseball. I even have an old baseball glove that was passed down to me from my grandfather. I'd give anything to play catch with my father again."

Affected by Pandora's words, the audience begins to murmur.

Caesar adjusts himself, promptly changing the subject. "So Pandora, what else do you enjoy doing in District Nine?"

"Well Caesar, when I'm not throwing like a boy, I make dolls like a girl with my grandma. We make them out of straw. My grandma can also make them out of cornhusks, but that's more complicated."

Dr. Galen moved next to the chief resident to see computer tablet screen up close. "She had a rich voice. She sounds much older."

Dr. Verus nodded. "True. She sounds…brave."

On the video, Caesar rubs his chin. "I apologize for my ignorance, but what exactly is a straw doll?"

Pandora smirks. "I can show you." She reaches into an inconspicuous pocket on the side of her dress and pulls out a small palm sized doll made of straw. She hands it to Caesar. "Since we are the grain district, we have plenty of straw to entertain ourselves with."

Inspecting the doll, Caesar smiles. "It's lovely. I love how you used red thread to help hold the straw together." Caesar holds up the doll and the camera focuses in with a close up.

When the doll filled the tablet screen, Dr. Verus paused the video.

Taking the tablet from the resident, Dr. Galen inspected the image and began gnawing her lip. "Someone once told me that the tributes are allowed to carry one item from home into the arena." The senior doctor passed the computer tablet to the resident and moved to the corner of the room where Pandora's dirty, bloody clothes lay.

The doctor began searching the pants and tossed them to the side when she found nothing. She next took the jacket and froze when she inserted her hand into the left breast pocket. She carefully removed her hand to reveal the straw doll that was seen in the video. The doctor stood as she inspected the tiny effigy. When Dr. Galen turned the doll over in her hand, she gasped and turned her face towards the corner of the room. Her arms dropped to her sides as her shoulders drooped; she stood motionless.

Rushing to his mentor's side, Dr. Verus studied her face. "What's wrong?"

Without looking, Dr. Galen passed the doll to the resident. "The doll has a name."

Dr. Verus turned the doll over in his hand. He found the torso of the doll rapped with a strip of white clothe to form a small dress. Stitched in red thread across the cloth, tiny letters formed the word _Hope_. "It may not be a name. It could be a virtue."

"It doesn't matter." Dr. Galen approached the folding chairs and sat down with a flop.

The chief resident placed the doll on Pandora's sternum and sat down next to his mentor. He continued the playback of the interview.

On the video, the camera pans out and Caesar and Pandora can be seen on stage. Caesar studies the doll. "This is lovely. You make these with your grandmother?"

Pandora beams. "Yes, we make them all the time to give to the little kids in our community. We don't have much in toys in District Nine. Making these dolls with my grandma will always be one of my fondest memories."

"That is very noble of you, young lady."

"During the fall festival, my entire family will work together to create a straw man as big as an actual person to burn in the center of town. It's to celebrate the autumn equinox."

"That sounds absolutely fantastic." Caesar hands the doll back to Pandora. "Please tell me that you never burn those precious little dolls."

"We don't. Most of us, including me, consider them good luck." Pandora looks down at the doll in her hand, and her smile begins to fade.

"Well I want to wish you luck too, Pandora." The buzzer goes off, signaling the end of the allotted time for the interview. Caesar rises to his feet. "It was an absolute pleasure, Pandora Spiga, tribute from District Nine." With those parting words, the crowd erupts with applause.

Frowning, Dr. Verus turned off the tablet computer. "Sorry if this has upset you."

The senior doctor inhaled deeply. "No. Your instincts were correct. Is the doll what you were trying to remember?"

He nodded. "It is."

"It's good that we found it."

Both doctors remained apoplectic as the sound of the leaky faucet reverberated around the room. As the drips appeared to grow louder, Dr. Galen's breathing deepened. Dr. Verus wrapped an arm around her shoulder in consolation.

**...**

After the needed respite, Dr. Galen wiped her eyes. "Can you fetch a coffin for Pandora? There should be a cart in the storage room."

"Sure." Dr. Verus stood without moving forward. He turned to Dr. Galen. "What does everyone posses, rich or poor, that grows in value as we age? Can this thing be stolen or taken away."

Faintly grinning, the female doctor stood to her feet. "For the sake of this riddle, no, but it can be lost."

"Medically lost?"

Dr. Galen pursed her lips in an attempt to hide her playful smirk.

"Okay." The chief resident departed through the double doors to retrieve a coffin. When he returned, he could see Dr. Galen standing by Pandora.

He rolled the coffin next to the table to find the cart low enough that they would be able to slide Pandora into the box without lifting. He removed the lid and set it against the wall.

Moving to the cabinet, Dr. Galen fetched a white cotton sheet and began lining the coffin.

"The doll!" The resident picked up the straw toy. "She mentioned that making these with her grandmother was one of her fondest mem..."

The female physician straightened and studied her colleague's blank gaze. "Yes?"

Dr. Verus smiled with relief. "Memories. Everyone has memories, and the good ones grow in value as we age. They can only be lost by disease, or death."

"Yes."

A joyous huff escaped from the resident. "People are measured by the memories they leave behind in others."

Approving, Dr. Galen crossed her arms. "Yes. Those who are the most giving of themselves, spreading kindness, are the most fondly remembered."

Dr. Verus bit his lip as he shook his head. He again smiled. "How are the dead raised? And with what kind of body do they come? They rise in our memories. The dead live on through us."

Taking the straw doll from the resident, Dr. Galen rubbed her thumb across the stitching. "Yes, the dead will also rise again in things that they loved doing."

The male doctor leaned against the table. "Are memories a special focus of your neurological work?"

"No." Shaking her head, the female doctor stared down at Pandora. "Just compassion. Help me slide her in. I'll take the feet."

Dr. Verus began to move to the head of the table when something made him stop. "Wait. There is a blood stain on the side of her pajama bottoms at the thigh."

Glancing over, the senior doctor shrugged. "A drop of blood must have gotten on the table. The stain is smaller than your thumbnail; I wouldn't worry about it. No one will notice."

Dr. Verus's face became hard. "No. She deserves clean pajamas. I'll pay for new bottoms."

Studying the chief resident's stern expression, Dr. Galen nodded. "Okay. There are more in the cabinet."

After the two doctors replaced the pajama bottoms, they carefully slid Pandora off the table into the coffin. When her body was in place and secured, they touched up her hair one last time.

Dr. Galen reached for the straw doll on the table and began rubbing her thumb over the _Hope_ lettering. "I should pin this to Pandora's pajama top so it doesn't get lost in transit." The doctor fetched a pin from the cabinet and began fastening the doll to the pajamas over Pandora's heart.

The young doctor mused openly. "The symbolism is inescapable."

Frowning, the senior doctor nodded. "I know."

Dr. Verus moved to the foot of the coffin. "I've always thought it odd that hope would be trapped in Zeus's box of evils."

"First of all." Dr. Galen crossed her arms. "Pandora's box was actually a jar."

The resident nodded, remembering his mythological studies.

"Second, some saw hope as one of the evils trapped in the jar, seen as false hope. The Greeks thought it delusional to sit around and _hope_ that something would turn out for the best, to sit around _hoping_ that someone else would solve their problems. But others scholars have thought that the jar was full of good, a pantry of good fortune for humans, but when Pandora looked inside it, letting all the good escape this world, all that remained for humanity was hope."

Dr. Verus rested his hands on his hips. "So, which hope are we returning today to District Nine with Pandora?"

Gnawing her lip, the female physician stared into the coffin. "I don't know. I became a doctor to ease suffering. I became one of the best, and yet, I'm powerless to end the most monstrous crime being committed above us in the arena. I'm not the one to ask."

The resident retrieved the leaning pine lid from the wall and approached the coffin. "Whichever way you want to look at the myth, I believe that the hope within should match the rest of the contents. So I choose to believe that the hope we are sending back with Pandora is the good variety to match the girl inside." He laid the lid gently onto the coffin.

After wiping her eyes, Dr. Galen reached under the coffin's cart to retrieve a hammer and box of nails. "Could you?"

"Sure." He took the hammer and nails from her.

"I'll inform the Peacekeepers that she's ready to be flown to the Capitol."

Dr. Verus opened the box of nails. "Will her mentor be travelling with her?"

"Don't know. If they do, they'll meet up with the coffin in the Capitol where it will be loaded onto the train."

The resident easily tapped the first nail into the pinewood. "Do these cheap coffins survive the trip?"

"They do. I have followed up with a few of the coffins. Once on the train, the workers look after the coffins. Most of the workers on the trains are from District Six, and they take good care of the fallen."

The male doctor fastened another nail. "That's good to hear."

Dr. Galen used her smartphone to send a message to the Peacekeepers as Dr. Verus continued to hammer nails.

When the resident finished with the last nail, Dr. Galen removed a black marker pen from her pocket and wrote on the coffin lid in large printed letters: _Pandora Spiga, District Nine_.

As they waited for the Peacekeepers, the chief resident began wiping down the examination table and equipment. At the sink, the senior doctor poured the blood down the drain, rinsing the container clean. Cleaning the morgue in silence, the two doctors prepared the room for the next inescapable victim.

Eventually, two Peacekeepers entered the room with a stretcher that they positioned next to the coffin. Under Dr. Galen's watchful eye, they gently transferred the coffin to the stretcher.

The larger Peacekeeper turned to the senior physician. "Doc, I think that you'll be busy tonight. The girl from District Seven has come out of hiding and she's lethal, nothing like she was during the pregame. She just took out a Career Tribute. You should be getting official word soon."

The younger Peacekeeper began pushing Pandora's coffin. "I'm betting on this Joanna girl. She knew how to _divide and conquer_ two patrolling Careers. The other isn't going to make it back to the Career base camp. I bet he won't live past the night."

The larger Peacekeeper followed his cohort as he exited the room with the coffin. "What do you want to wager on it?"

With their exit, the doors flapped back and forth until they came to rest.

Dr. Galen's phone buzzed. Hesitating, she read the message. "They're right. A hovercraft picked up a body minutes ago. It will be here shortly."

The chief resident turned to his mentor. "May I again assist you, Dr. Galen?"

The woman lifted her chin and smiled with relief. "Sure. I need the company."

"We should grab some dinner first. I'll buy to cover the pajama bottoms."

"I don't think so. The cafeteria food for the Peacekeepers is terrible. I insist that you buy me lunch at a nice restaurant in September."

Confused, Dr. Verus cleared his throat. "You're giving me the fellowship?"

"I am."

"Because of the riddles?"

"No." The corner of Dr. Galen's mouth twisted up into a mischievous smile. "Pandora told me that you had the credentials that I seek."

Dr. Verus starred in acknowledgement and then nodded. "I'm honored. I promise you, both of you, to always do my best."

"I know you will." Dr. Galen shook the young doctor's hand. "I'll meet you down in the cafeteria. I have one thing to take care of."

"Okay."

After Dr. Verus's departure from the room, Dr. Galen approached a small red box hanging on the wall that collected hazardous hospital waste. Glowering, she removed a capped medical syringe partially filled with blood from her pocket. "I'm so sorry for what happened to you." Mourning the stranger that had inevitably touched her, the doctor curled her fingers around the syringe and closed her eyes.

Composing herself with deep breaths, the doctor looked up to the ceiling with welled eyes. "I also have to thank you. Dr. Verus's benevolence should serve the people well. He's a good doctor." Dr. Galen dropped the medical syringe into the red box. "Peace be with you, Pandora. May the gifts you've bestowed to this world never be forgotten."


End file.
